stone bridge over the Ebro leads into the middle of this old town; and in these circumstances it bears some resemblance to the city of London, with its bridge in the midst of the present capital. That Part of the old walls which ran along the river, is either hidden by modern houses, or entirely removed; on the outside of the three other parts of the old walls, runs a broad open street in the manner of the boulevards of Paris, beyond which the new town spreads in all directions, but chiefly to the westward; the ground being confined on the south and east by the little river Huerva, which falls into the Ebro at the east end of the

town.

The streets of both the old and the new town are tolerably straight, crossing each other at right angles; but they are gene rally narrow, particularly within the old or Roman town.

Saragossa is very ancient; the present name is a gradual corrup tion of Caesaraugusta, a name given to it by Augus us Caesar, who repaired and beautified a place called Saldub, situated on the same spot. Pliny mentions both towns, saying, Cæsaraugusta was a free colony on the banks of the Ebro, where formerly stood a town called Salduba." It began in the reign of Augustus to coin money; and many of its coins still remain, commemorating the signal favours it received fron that Emperor.

Saragossa has undergone so many changes from the various incursions of Goths, Moors, and other foreign nations, that unless it be the remains of the inner walls and gates, no antiquities of

Roman times are now to be seen, The churches, palaces, the townhouse, the exchange, are, however, well worthy of observation. The town possesses no less than two cathedrals in which divine ser Vice is alternately performed by the same chapter; the one is a venerable gothic building, sup ported by four rows of clustered pillars; the other is a modern structure of Greek architecture, in the form, not of a cross, but of a parallelogram, about five hundred feet long, by two hun dred feet broad. It is built of brick, bat the intention was to case it entirely over with some of the valuable marbles with which Spain abounds. The plan was, to erect a square tower at each angle of the parallelogram, a grand dome in the centre, and five other domes towards the east end; a design certainly singular and dif ferent from what we see adopted for other christian churches. The interior is divided by two rows of massy square pillars, ornamented with pilasters. The chief object in erecting this extraordinary structure, was to provide a suitable mansion for the miraculous image of the virgin, there preserved and celebrated far and wide, in ancient as in modern times, under the designation of our Lady of the pillar. The origin of this appellation was this, that soon after the ascension of our Saviour, (but during the life time of Mary, when St. James the Elder was enployed in preaching the gospel in Spain, and had yet made but very few converts, the virgin, transported by a choir of angels, passed from Jerusalem to the neigh bourhood of Saragossa, and ap

peared

peared to James, seated on a marble pillar, brought by the angels for the purpose; when encour aging him to continue his apos C tolic labours, which would ultimately be crowned with success, she directed him to erect a chapel to her honour, and to place in it the pillar on which she sat, for an everlasting memorial of het appearance. The virgin was immediately wafted back to Jerusalem, and a chapel was erected at Saragossa by St. James and his eight disciples, (for his converts were not more numerous) in which the sacred pillar was deposited; and this identical pillar it was, which without intermission has been, and still is, venerated in Saragossa.

Under the centre dome of the five on the east end of this new Cathedral is erected a magnificent chapel of Greek architecture, and of the most precious marbles the country affords, in the form of a little temple, in the centre of which stands the sacred pillar supporting an ancient image of the virgin, with her infant son, of wood now as black as ebony. The riches appertaining to this image are beyond calculation; and on account of the miracles performed at this shrine, the re sort of pilgrims from distant parts not only of Spain, but of Europe, is even at this day very great.

This new cathedral was tounded in the end of the 17th century, and in 1753, Ferdinand VI. directed the chapel of our Lady of the pillar to be constructed; it is probable, however, that this prodigious edifice will not soon be brought to a conclusion.

The ancient castle or fortress

on the west side of the town, now converted into barracks for troops, contains several noble halls, part of the palace of the Kings of Arragon, enriched with very delicare sculpture and gilding. When Henry VIII. of England married Catharine of Arragon, among other presents were sent to him from this castle various arms, particularly swords marked with the boar and dog, and the name of Andrew Ferrara, then a celebrated artist in Saragossa.

In a small open place or square, in the western part of the old town, stands detached from other buildings, an octagonal tower of fourteen feet a side, and thirtyfour feet in diameter, by one hundred and forty feet in height, it is constructed of brick like the greater number of buildings in the town, with sundry ornaments, formed by the projection of the bricks in particular places beyond the rest of the walls. The windows appear at a distance to be gothic, but they are not arched, the gradual contraction at the top being produced by advancing each superior row of bricks a little beyond the inferior row, as is seen in some of the most ancient ed fices of Egypt. The inside of this tower contains a stair or ramp, resembling that in St. Mark's tower, at Venice; and the ascent is so gentle, that a man on horseback may mount to the top. The tower is not perpendicular, having a visible bend to one side, in the manner of the famous hanging tower at Pisa; but its devia tion from the vertical line is not so considerable as that of the latter building. The date of this tower is 1504; and it is called

the

the new tower, although its construction be commonly ascribed to the Moors.

In Saragossa, is one of those patriotic institutions which first took their rise in Biscay, called La sociedad de los amigos del pays, the society of the friends of the country. The object of these institutions, now numerous in Spain is the general instruction of youth, independently of the established schools and universities of the Kingdom; whatever relates to the improvement of agriculture, manufactures, and the fine arts, comes within the scope of these excellent institutions, which are maintained partly by grants from the Government, and partly by individual subscriptions amongst the more opulent inhabitants of the districts where they

are established. To the society of Saragossa, the late King granted one thousand pounds at first, with a yearly revenue of two hundred pounds.

The students at the university of Saragossa, in the year 1769, amounted to nine hundred and seventy-six but this number was much increased in some following years, by the influx of young men from the country, who, to avoid the service of the Militia, flocked to the university, under the pretence of devoting themselves to the service of the church. The Militia service is in Spain called the quinta, because every fifth man of a community, or district, is obliged to serve, if not attached to the Ecclesiastical life, or otherwise legally exempted.

The Press of Coyne, Capel street, has given within the month of August, two very interesting publications, "The Grounds of the Old Religion, or Irrefragable Arguments in favour of the Catholic Church. With an Appendix, shewing the invalidity of Protestant Ordination, and proving the uncanonical consecration of Parker, at the Nag's-head, and the forgery of the Lambeth records, in answer to Courayer, &c. With Biographical sketches of the Chief Reformers, the motives by which they were induced, and the

means which they employed in es tablishing the Reformation, and the effects produced by the same. By the late Bishop Challoner." This is the first time this very vaJuable Work passed through the Irish Press. The Irish public are much indebted to this spirited and industrious young Bokseller, for the expensive and judicious selection of the Works of eminent Catholic Writers he has lately published, at a time when a vindication of Catholicity became a measure of necessity, against the violence of persecution, and the ca

lumnies

hearts, they gave a welcome in return, and a place of refuge, and a love approaching to worship. Those humble Evangelists have passed away, crowned with sufferings, works, and glorious infamy, and I repose upon their intercession, now that they are consummated spirits, in hope, that their successors will not fall, by the dissembling warfare of any power, such as formerly marked them out for proscription, and

PAMPHLET.

It must be remembered, notwithstanding, that we owe much to Catholic Episcopacy in Ireland -It is to the constancy, zeal and laborious devotion to their sacred calling of Irish Bishops, we are indebted for the present increase of the Catholic name, which, eradicated by the axe of law from year to year, derived growth and vigour from perpetual wounds; and, at this day overspreads the soil, like an unmeasurable ruin. Selected from the Priesthood, not by the profane reconnoitring of Court Intrigue, but by the hallowed test of venerable life, marked out for peculiar severity and disgrace by the laws, present ed by Grand Juries as infamous Men, contemning safety, disdained by power-those ancient Prelates confined their ambition to their Apostleship, and addressed their labours to them, on whom the Gospel was first and expressly bestowed; to the poor, to the prisoner, to the weeping. Nor were the poor ungrateful for the heavenly comforts. From beggarly means, and rich swelling

ance, when the palsied knee should be braced, and the faint heart should be resolute, they will not suffer that light to go out, offensively, which burned and gleamed in the tempestuous night of a long captivity, as the lamp of prophecy before the morning star, and as a beacon to the troubled and sinking faith of nations.

But I do not think our present Bishops degenerate-I have known their innocence, faith, religiousness and patriotism, by many proofs, and I am justly anxious for what they may become hereafter. They are not fashioned, I allow, on the deep, rugged stamp of their predecessors, whose daily exercise was to wrestle with death nor would indeed the times allow the funereal display of those vir tues, which persecurion demanded formerly. The soldiers of Ceesar knew how to fight, though perfumed and wearing chaplets; and, were our Bishops called upon by Religion, to suffer, I presume that they could suffer greatly, without the pomp and circumstance of martyrdom.

Yet they will consider that not all their virtues will be admit

ted

ted either to justify or to attone for an hour's desertion from the Universal Church; and that in an office, such as they hold, of unbounded confidence and most free and compulsive authority; suspicion is more fatal than crime, and, of all crimes, subverviency is the greatest, and when joined to the possibility of a bribe, is beyond cure and expiation. They will remember that when their duty required, they magnanimously came forth to oppose rebellion against the state, and to reinforce, by the awe of spiritual condemnation, the necessary, yet frightful justice, which desolated the land. It is strange to think, that such heroism as that which they then displayed, should not have gained them implicit confidence! Strange, that men who had thus cast away, for righteousness sake, all the imperious feelings of sympathy, and still more powerful remembrances of paternal love, should not even now be trusted with the choice of their bwh colleagues! But, they op. posed the crimes of the people, and such is the force of virtue, they were thought to oppose them from Bishop-like motives. A new and more serious cause of offence is now before the Public, which, unless it be encountered openly, and without elusion, will asperse that other proceeding; I do not say, with disgrace, but only not with homicide. Should it here after appear, that the negociation with the then government was a voluntary advance on their part, not the reluctant assent of terrified men, it will be inferred,

most falsely I declare, but most unanswerably, as to general con viction, that it was not more from the attraction of duty than the attraction of gold, they turned their backs on their slaughtered flock, and that they barred up heaven against the dying, in the horrible contemplation of wages.

My attachment to an order of men, I have reverenced from my early days, to some of whom I am hound by their good offices, and several of whom ought to be bound to me by mine, has wrung from me these words, in which, if they should be led to think that I have overstepped the general feeling, they will err, and, perhaps lamentably. Though mute in appearance, this feeling is not inexpressive; and though without agitation, it is already decid ed, with many sympoms of irrevocable choice. I have represented this feeling, lest our Bishops should be the last to know, what they would be the first to experi ence, most solemnly protesting that their seats are tottering at this moment, under the well combined force of appearances and probabilities, upon which public causes are usually determined without appeal. They are to assemble, as I understand, in a few weeks-I pray that their resurrec tion may be full of glory, and their determination may be prompt. Their place, their ho nour, their innocence, demand a loud vindication. It is impatiently expected now-In a month hence it may be a posthumous apology.